


Deep Conversations

by A_BadSpellr



Series: Pirates of Exandria [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Cthulhu-ish stuff, Fjord-centric, Gen, Get ready to get wet, Magic, Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 14:36:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13977165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_BadSpellr/pseuds/A_BadSpellr
Summary: Fjord has a serious conversation in the middle of the night and gets answers from an unlikely source.





	Deep Conversations

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, I'm back! I've wanted to get this out since Travis had his solo scene, but needed some time to pass in game for it to work. It still doesn't really follow anything since it's just a drabble, but this may become something more if the campaign cooperates. As always, constructive criticism is always welcome and encouraged!

Fjord rose from his bed roll slowly, careful to keep from disturbing his sleeping companions. The edge of Eastern Wynandir was just ahead of them. In preparation for what dangers they would find, Yasha had suggested they make camp and rest. She sat near him her back to the fire, halfway through the first watch of the night. He tried his best to sneak past her outside the light cast by the fire, but she found him without effort.

“Where are you going,” she asked.

Fjord thought about lying for a second. What he wanted to do was dangerous and could get him in trouble, but something inside told him that despite the odds, he could trust these people.

“I’m gunna go learn an Old One’s name,” he said.

Yasha’s hand moved to cover the symbol of the Stormlord on her belt, as though she understood what he meant. She looked at him with narrowed eyes, trying to see into his heart. Fjord made no move to turn away. He had nothing to hide from them. At least not yet.

“Good luck,” she said, shifting her focus back toward the dark field before her, “Don’t die. We need someone who can actually talk to people.”

“Understood.”

Fjord left the camp and made his way through the surrounding trees. The crisp night air brought him back to his nights aboard the merchant ships. There was no steady sway of the vessel on the waves or sounds of the water breaking across the bow, but there was still a sense of peace in the darkness. The night sky above him was deep blue, nearly black. Just like his ultimate destination.

He found a flat space in a secluded glen far enough away to not cause a fuss, but close enough to make it back in a hurry if necessary. He sat cross legged like Beau taught him and closed his eyes. Slowly his breaths even out, his mind cleared, and he allowed himself to fall away from the world. Sleep took him then, dark and dreamless. Fjord surrendered himself to the darkness. He fell.

The darkness surrounding him changed. Gone was the peaceful sound of the breeze. In its place was pressure, heavy and overpowering. He opened his eyes and watched as it dragged him down further and further into the inky blackness. The silence was oppressive, reminding him again just how deep he needed to go. He steeled himself, letting out a slow breath and allowing the water to fill his lungs again. The cold stung but he endured, adjusting to its presence in his body. He heard the slow press of something enormous and heavy all around him. It wasn’t long before he felt them closing in. This time, when the great eye opened, Fjord stared back without fear.

“I would speak with you Old One,” said Fjord, his twang noticeably absent.

The water around him rumbled, a deafeningly low sound reverberated all around him, coalescing into a word.

_Speak._

Something was different about the word this time. Fjord heard inflection in the tone. He could sense the eye’s intent. He allowed himself a smile. Maybe he could communicate with it. He could learn what he needed to protect them all.

“I understand more of my potential than before, enough to know that it needs direction. I will consume. I will grow. But I don’t have the patience to wait.” He mustered as much courage as he could. “So, I am here to provoke you.”

The eye blinked, a painfully slow motion that stretched on for what felt like hours. Then the tone returned, buffeting Fjord on all sides. The sound was broken, rhythmic. It almost felt like…laughter?

_Hubris. Amusing._

Fjord’s eyes snapped back to Old One. The eye stared back at him, unblinking as before, but he swore that he could see mirth in the depth of its gaze.

_What would you know?_

“I want your name,” he said.

The laughter came again, louder this time. The pressure forced Fjord cover his ears and close his eyes tight, the low tones almost too strong to bear.

_The One Who Rules Below. Ssissthvhir._

“Ssissthvhir,” he whispered, “That’s your name. That doesn’t sound like Common to me, but it’ll do.”

Fjord slowly reach behind him and drew his falchion. It glowed an eerie blue, almost white against the darkness around him. He held the blade perpendicular to himself and presented it to his patron.

“I want to learn.”

_Learn what?_

“Everything.”

The creature cackled directly in his mind this time, spending spikes of pain through his head. The sounds changed. The voice was everywhere at once, its pitch high and low, beautiful and terrifying, as though the whole of the sea spoke to him at once.

_There is greatness in you. I shall harness it and use it. You will be my tool in this world. I will call upon you and you will answer. You will be my herald and harbinger when the time comes. For this, I offer you knowledge and the will to use it._

Fjord took the blade in hand and slowly drew it across his chest, as he had seen Molly do before. The water from the depths rushed into his chest, filling the spaces within and burning him from the inside out. He screamed as the cold rushed through him, but he pushed through the pain to answer.

“The deal is made,” he said through gritted teeth. His gaze landed on the eye again. He swore he could feel his patron smiling.

_Then let us begin._

***

Fjord woke in agony, but kept the scream from escaping his throat. He coughed and sputtered as his body tried to rid itself of the salt water in his chest. When he felt recovered enough he stood. His legs shook, his arms lacked strength, but he pushed through. His senses returned, and he looked to the sky. The stars were out in full, lighting up the night sky like millions of candles. He concentrated on his blade and with a cerulean flash it appeared in his hand.

His weapon no longer took the form of a falchion. An elegant and ornate cutlass had taken its place. A light coat of water covered the blade, making the starlight shimmer and dance across it. Fjord could feel the lessons of his patron return to him as he held the sword, reminding him of all he had been gifted. He sighed and dismissed the sword. It was time to return to friends.

Yasha was still on watch when he returned. He didn’t bother to greet her; she would have seen him coming.

“What did you find out,” she asked as he shuffled by.

He chuckled to himself.

“That I’ve still got a lot to learn.”

 


End file.
